Consummatum
by RuthanneReid
Summary: What would have happened if Fuuma had decided to make a deal with Subaru - before the end? Why, that's simple; everything would change.
1. Default Chapter

**Prologue**

_"This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."_

_- Winston Churchill, 1942_

It was six pm, and the evening was very, very empty.

The litter that blew lazily through the streets at this hour was not alone; it carried with it a stench, choked by dust and a fetid warmth that spoke of garbage abandoned for many days - not something normally found in Tokyo's center city. 

Any visible, unbroken windows were filthy; barely enough remained whole to give more than a grudging acknowledgement to the sun, and in apparent rebellion to that, the light had decided instead to play in the street, sharply pronouncing the existence of every piece of smashed glass and ruined metal as if dancing over midwinter snow.

Subaru thought that perhaps, if he looked hard enough, he could almost make out the remains of the Rainbow Plaza shopping mall. Maybe.

Once upon a time, Saturday nights had filled this place with throngs of inebriated people, drunken with fellowship and eager to prove themselves alive. It had been an innocent time, at least for him - regardless of cliche - and Subaru reflected morbidly that the only similarity between then and now was that the thoroughfare could still be termed one of the most exciting places to be in all of Tokyo. Well. If one did not mind defining "exciting" as containing painful and certain death.

Really, no one dared come here anymore; really, no one should. But Subaru did, because he had an appointment, and it was one he intended to keep. 

He had not gone far when he found it; the spot farthest from anyone still living in this city, epicenter of Tokyo and source of all the "earthquakes" that were supposedly resposible for its ruin. Content, he climbed onto a fallen pillar that pointed like a judge's finger and sat, relieved by the amount of privacy it afforded.

And then, he waited.

He waited, while the sun continued to set and not so much as a rat passed beneath his feet; he waited, while his shadow grew long and melted silently into a kind of nighttime darkness likened to death. He waited, patient, because leaving never crossed his mind, for no matter how much he insisted he had changed, he really had not. Pain had made him unrecognizable to himself; but he was still who he was, and Subaru Sumeragi never ran out on a promise.

Fuuma came to him before the moon had fully set, and the deal they made was dark and terrible. Subaru wept, and Fuuma smiled, because weeping was part of that bargain. The moon disappeared, and stillness covered their sin; and no one knew what they had done.

The End had finally begun.

* * *


	2. Consummatum Chapter One

**One: Normal**

_"I'm alright. Go away."   
  
- H. G. Wells (1866-1946) , Last words _

"Goodbye. I am leaving because I am bored." Karen smiled as she passed the wasabi.

"Mmm... George Saunders?" Aoki Seiichirou took the wasabi and raised her some miso. She accepted graciously. 

"Correct." She smiled. He smiled. All was right with the world.

The two sat on one of the horizontal i-beams holding the curves of Tokyo Tower together. It was evening, sun setting, and what with the quarantine and all, it was highly unlikely that anybody would see them. Just in case, they both wore black; but black was a large portion of both their wardrobes - suits for him, lingerie for her - and thus, was no hardship. To boot, they'd brought their lunch; now transformed magically into dinner by the mere passing of time, it was shared between them with much aplomb and harmless flirting - which behavior guaranteed that none of the food had really been tasted, but that was all right. 

"That was too easy. Try another one?" Aoki said, dabbing at his mouth and then dusting his jacket with his napkin.

"All right. Let's try..." Karen thought for a moment, curled prettily on the i-beam as though sitting 900 feet above the ground while sipping tea was a normal activity for her. Well, salvation of the world ranked third in her to-do list; perhaps it was. "Draw the curtain, the farce is over."

"Mmm... that's a hard one." Aoki considered, wrapping the food that remained and putting it neatly back into the basket. She watched his long fingers as he worked. "Wasn't it... someone Greek?"

Karen chuckled daintily, the slight, throaty quality to her voice making Aoki shiver. "The Greek philosopher Demonax, to be exact."

Aoki glanced at her over his wire-rimmed glasses, disapproving. "That's just a little obscure, don't you think?"

"True enough," she agreed easily, turning her gaze from his hands to his eyes. "You do the next one."

"All right," he said, and thought. "Friends applaud, the comedy is finished."

Karen smiled. "Ludwig van Beethoven. Although - wasn't he referring to the activities of the bedside priest, and not his own life?" she asked, one eyebrow up. She fingered the gold cross hanging over her bosom.

Aoki made a sound that resembled a hiccup. "Oh - ah - Karen, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything - "

"I know," she soothed, doing more with her eyes than her voice, and he glanced down with a blush and was silent. "My turn," she said, brushing imaginary crumbs from her lap; she stretched, uncurling her legs. "I should never have switched from Scotch to Martinis."

Aoki blinked. "That's the quote?"

She chuckled at him, leaning forward slightly to watch his face. "That's the quote."

"Well - Karen, I have no idea."

She smiled. "Humphrey Bogart." 

"Who?" The look of puzzlement on his face was well worth the entire evening in her opinion - if she'd been in need for a good reason, which she had not.

"He was an American actor," she informed him, smiling like a cat. "I used to love trivia like that when I was young; I had ideas about becoming one myself. An actress, that is."

"You? Well - you... you're certainly beautiful enough." He glanced down, blushing and smiling at his brown shoes.

Brown shoes with a black suit; it was absurd, and adorable. Karen smiled and did not mention it. "Tomorrow, then?" she said, arching her back to stretch.

Aoki looked back up and smiled. "Tomorrow." 

She nodded once, and waited for him to leave. He adjusted his glasses and smiled at her.

"Karen - you know I won't go until I've seen you off," he said, carrying the basket under one arm.

Karen nodded. "Take care, Aoki. Say hello to your wife tonight, if you can " And she left - leaping down in a swirl of graceful motion, as light on her feet as if she were simply hopping off a wall. 

Aoki stood still until she was out of sight, smiling at the very mention of his wife. Karen always remembered to say that; it made him feel better, as if he were close to his spouse instead of geographically farther away than he'd ever been in his life. It was just a wonderful little gift Karen gave.

It was a bizarre and delightful love; he and Karen did not and never would sleep together - but between the two of them was a wonderful thing, too flirtatious to be sibling and too safe to be sexual. Aoki felt no guilt regarding his wife, and neither did Karen; they were simply there for one another in their times of need.

After one last check to make sure they'd left nothing behind, Aoki leapt down as well, following the path Karen had taken.

The streets were deserted; it seemed the curfew was effective. Nothing but the shushing of wind in the naked trees and Aoki's own footsteps sounded in the air. Perhaps he would call her tonight; or at least in the morning. He needed to tell her he loved her.

"Seiichirou-san."

The voice came out of nowhere, to use the hackneyed phrase; and although it was familiar, it was so unexpected and it had been so long since he'd heard it that Aoki took a moment to place its owner. He stopped. 

"Seiichirou-san."

Aoki turned, and stared.

"....Subaru?"

Subaru walked toward him, somehow both frailer and more threatening than when Aoki had seen him last. His voice, soft, carried with it more fullness than Aoki remembered it having. "So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lieth. Sir Walter Raleigh, beheaded in 1618." 

Aoki stared. "I... didn't know you... Subaru!" And he embraced him, tightly, quickly. Subaru did not respond.

Aoki looked into his eyes, concerned. "Where have you been? Everyone has been concerned - Subaru... Kamui has...."

Subaru closed his eyes during this stilted speech, interrupting the moment Kamui's name was mentioned. "He's coming for you tonight. For your people. And you'll have to choose."

Silence hung like a death shroud. "What?"

Subaru opened his eyes. Aoki had been given to understand that once they'd been green, a brilliant emerald color that made him stand out among native Japanese. When Aoki had first met him, they had been more grey than green, almost as if they'd faded; but now, in the light of the street lamps, they seemed utterly devoid of anything but grey. Aoki could see every thin, dark line radiating from his pupil through his soft grey irises; something about Subaru's eyes seemed so devoid of joy that the words could no longer even hope to describe them, and he knew he'd see those eyes again in any dreams that involved an unhappy ending.

"He's coming. Dark Kamui. And he's going to make you choose."

Aoki's heart was beginning to pound hard enough for him to hear. "Subaru - Subaru, I don't understand - "

"He's given me permission to warn you - each of you - only once." 

Aoki fell silent. Subaru's voice reflected the look that sat so emptily in his eyes. 

"...Subaru...."

"I've got to go." Subaru turned, his black coat catching lightly for a moment and revealing the black, black material covering his legs, and walked down the street.

"Subaru - wait! Subaru!" Subaru kept going, and Aoki ran after him. "Subaru!"

"No. Leave me alone!" Subaru abruptly shouted, his voice strained and slightly cracking, and suddenly he leapt up toward the roof of a neighboring building. He was gone in a moment; his panic spiced the air, stunning Aoki enough that he did not follow right away, and by the time he came to his senses, it was too late. A few seconds and Subaru was gone.

He could feel his own growing terror like bitter wine on his tongue. "....coming... for them... oh, gods." Turning on his heel, Aoki ran for the nearest payphone, praying to anyone who would listen that Fuuma's coming would wait for another few minutes_._


	3. Consummatum Perspective 1

_**Perspective.1**_

* * *

_grey_

_static, like static_

_over eyes_

_control slipping_

_let to slip_

_easier when the Other is in control_

_no thinking_

_no thought_

_approach the prey_

_contact_

* * *

_"No - no, please, you have to listen to me, get out, you have to get OUT - hello? Hello? SHIT!" Phone slammed, redialing, panic - realization_

_No dial tone._

_HE chooses this time to speak._

_"Did you say everything you needed to?" Gentle, polite concern. "I could give you another few minutes, if you wanted." Solicitous, kind; as if he actually cares._

_Aoki_

_Is very still._

_"No," he says, trying not to react, trying not to respond even though HE is close enough to tickle skin with HIS breath. "No, I... that was enough. Let's get this over with." And he starts to raise a kekkai, and HE hits him._

_Has to hit him. Can't raise a kekkai; then I wouldn't be there, and that is not allowed._

_Joy stolen away - _

_There are minutes of silence._

_"Enjoying yourself yet, sakurazukamori?" HE asks, and what am I supposed to say? Yes? No? You can't make me?_

_"No." I settle for simple; I always settle for simple these days. As long as it leaves the other alive - _

_"He's waking up," says HE, a moment before I sense the stirrings myself_

_"Please don't do that again," HE says, before I would have, but HE knows better. Perhaps Aoki is awake._

_"Why?" Aoki says; he is awake_

_"Because raising a kekkai is a request for a battle. I don't intend to do battle; so please - don't raise a kekkai."_

_Don't intend to do battle_

_How can you do that_

_Lie without lying_

_Promise so much and deliver the opposite without breaking your promise_

_...I almost hate You_

_HE looks at me as if HE knows._

_"What do you want?" Aoki does not sit up; of course, he doesn't want to be hit again. Or maybe he's given up. Like me._

_"To give you your wish." Of course. HE always says - _

_Aoki closes his eyes; a good man, a good husbandfatherfriend - why this? Why HIM?_

**_Because you don't love him_**_ is in my head, and I know Who put it there_

_...almost hate You_

_Aoki smiles. "I don't suppose I can... get this put off for a little while."_

_"No. It's time." So gentle about it_

_So false_

_Silence again, while I pray HE does not speak in my head_

_Something is answered, at least_

_"So what are you going to do?" Aoki sits up, on his elbows, trying not to look hurt_

_Male ego_

_I have that_

_HE smiles. "Choose."_

_"What?"_

_"Choose - according to your choice, of course. It IS your wish."_

_So helpful_

_I wish I were dead_

**_Not yet, sakurazukamori_**

_...stop it...._

_"Please leave them alone," Aoki says, suddenly shaken, shaking, not-brave_

_He knows_

_or he thinks he does_

_"If that is your wish - then I have to take you," HE says, and Aoki looks surprised_

_Please don't_

_Please don't do that_

_It's worse when - _

_"Why, don't you know?" HE says, calm, eyes wider, as if it all makes sense and what's to be worried about anyway? "You wished that they would be safe; that's your deepest heart's desire. That's what I'm going to give to you - _

_"...but it depends on what you want." _

_Staring, blank, uncomprehending_

_HE speaks slowly, as if to an idiot. "They will be 'safe;' but they could be 'safe' dead, because they can hurt no more and will not mourn you; or they could be 'safe' alive, but mourning because you're dead and possibly going to suffer and die anyway because of what will happen as the cornerstones of Tokyo fall. Your choice."_

_So casual _

_So hated_

_So... right_

_Aoki stares; what else can he do? Such a horrible choice_

**_And you are the king of horrible choices, aren't you, sakurazukamori?_**

_STOP IT_

_"...and if you... take me now - "_

_HE smiles_

_"...then you won't leave them alone. Will you."_

_"I will not touch them. But I am not responsible for anyone's actions but my own - none of us are. And should they be still alive when Tokyo falls, well - then they will be wiped out anyway. Perhaps by Beast, or Yuuto - he'd enjoy your wife, I'm sure, even if your daughter is just a bit too young for - "_

_"Shut up! Just shut up!"_

_I couldn't agree more_

_"And if you die, of course, then you have already pushed Tokyo toward its doom because then there will be one less seal of heaven."_

_Aoki has not begun to cry, but he sounds like he should. "Please... please don't do this..."_

_"It's too late, Aoki. I'm already doing it," HE says, and touches Aoki's face_

_who moves away, scurrying, with wide horrified eyes _

_trapped_

_he knows it now_

_...I know that touch_

_if only you could get away_

_"Make your choice, Aoki-san." HE stands, walking toward Aoki._ _"Choose."_

_"....I can't -"_

_"Choose." HE walks, implacable, unstoppable_

_A killer walk_

_Aoki closes his eyes, teeth shut tightly, and then -_

_"Can you really let the world die for the sake of your family?"_

_Aoki screams and tries_

_he tries_

_hitting, or wind, or something_

_But such is HIS power_

_HIS might_

_that it never gets farther than the tips of HIS shoes_

_he is weeping_

_"Deciiiiide," HE says, holding Aoki at painful angles, pressed against HIS legs, his glasses fallen off_

_"...fine... you win..."_

_no_

_Aoki_

_don't_

_"Take them. I cannot... I can't... sacrifice the world for the ones that I love."_

_NO_

_"Subaru-kun."_

_...stop breathing..._

_"Please go and fufill Aoki-san's wish, Subaru-kun. It won't take you long; they're in the Shinjaku district."_

_He looks up, gasping; don't look at me_

_please, don't look at me_

_I haven't any choice - _

_"I - "_

_HE looks at me._

_"Subaru-kun." so quiet, maybe in my head "You don't want to make me do it. Sakurazukamori."_

_Sound_

_sobbing_

_Aoki?_

_No_

_It's me_

_"...yes. Kamui."_

_And I go._

_Aoki screams behind me, just once. HE will leave him alive - _

_...but... so broken_

_how can he -_

_...it's over for him_

_Just... _

_be quiet_

_and let the tree take over_

* * *

___grey_

_static, like static_

_over eyes_

_control slipping_

_let to slip_

_easier when the Other is in control_

_no thinking_

_no thought_

_approach the prey_

_contact_

* * *

Subaru screamed. 


	4. Consummatum Chapter Two

Two: Develop 

_"Cogito ergo doleo" - I think, therefore I am depressed._

The room was pleasant enough, except for the smell. 

Semi-opaque drapes framed the window, their slightly sun-faded pattern promising the coming of happier times, when the season would finally turn and the window could be opened to admit the Spring. Right now, of course, it was shut; and perhaps that was a good thing, but Kamui honestly felt that the room would have smelled better if they could have opened it wide.

"Anything?" 

Sorata looked up from his post by the bed; he'd fallen asleep, and was trying to look like he hadn't. "Naw. He still hasn't said a word." He pushed his cap further back on his head.

Kamui nodded once, and dared to come a step closer. Perhaps it was because every member of his family was dead, or perhaps it was because he himself had been hospitalized too many times to count; whatever the reason, Kamui did not like hospitals. It spoke good things of his character that he was willing to take a turn to come and watch. To watch, yes; but not to interfere. It did not seem that there was much that anybody could do; Aoki sat, physically unharmed but mentally vacant, staring off into space and breathing regularly only because his body remembered not to stop. 

"What do the doctors say?"

Sorata shrugged, his hair sleep-ruffled and his eyes fixed stubbornly forward in spite of his nap-daze. "They said he's fine, physically. Not a thing wrong with him that they can see, but you know how THEY are. They just... don't know why he is." Sorata seemed to realize he'd been sleepy enough to leave that sentence unfinished, and he blushed, running his hand through his hair. "Don't know why he's... the way he is. Like that, I mean." 

Kamui simply nodded. "And the princess?"

Sorata shrugged. "Her dreams didn't see it coming. She has no idea what's going on. All she gets is vague stuff about darkness and demons and feathers. Lots of feathers."

Kamui merely nodded again, having seen more than enough of Hinoto's dreamscapes for one lifetime. He still did not trust her; but since the dragons of heaven had no other future-seeing help, and he had no direct proof that she was as evil as his instinct said, he did nothing. Of course, it seemed he usually did nothing these days; he was beginning to wonder, bitterly, just what good it was to be a neo-Messiah figure when all one could do was get one's self pinned to a wall so one could watch while one's friends were mutilated. Like, say, having their eyes torn out.

Of course, he had no room to complain; he hadn't even asked Sorata about Arashi, and the girl had disappeared days ago. No one seemed to know why or where, but from what Kamui could gather, apparently she'd slept with Sorata and then - well, freaked out.

It was the stuff jokes were made of. It was also the stuff of tragedy; and due to the intimate nature of the problem, Kamui hadn't been able to bring himself to discuss it. He felt guilty for this, in a way; Subaru would have asked. Subaru was always aware of other people, always hurting for them, always so amazingly selfless in spite of his personal pain - at least in Kamui's opinion, which was one of the reasons why he emulated the onmyouji so.

Well; emulated in theory. "Loved" might be a better word, but he tried to think of it as having a good role model. It was safer that way.

"Thinking about Subaru again?"

Kamui started, his eyes glancing toward Sorata suspiciously. The young monk just smiled back at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kamui insisted.

"Uh huh," Sorata said. "That's your 'oh gods, Subaru, what have I done to you?' look. As opposed to the 'oh gods, Subaru, you're so beautiful' look or the 'oh gods, Subaru, PLEASE stop hurting look' or the - "

"ENOUGH," Kamui growled, hands clenched at his sides, and Sorata stopped; he shrugged again.

"He's not coming back, Kamui," he began, trying perhaps to tell Kamui what everyone had been trying to tell him delicately for weeks, and Kamui reacted exactly how everyone had thought he would upon hearing it so bluntly: his hand was around Sorata's throat before the latter even had time to put down his crumpled hat.

"He WILL come back," Kamui said, eyes blazing amethyst. "YOU don't know him like I do! He will!"

Sorata gargled a reply that was not definitely a yea or a nay, but Kamui accepted it as the former and backed down. And just as suddenly, the anger was gone; Kamui trembled.

"....I'm sorry."

"Yeah. I know. I shouldn'a opened my mouth anyway," Sorata said, not looking sorry, and coughed a little. Then, he grinned. "You haven't gone all tough-ass on me like that for months; that was kinda nostalgic to see, you know? Glad you got some fight left in you!"

Kamui refused to answer; hugging himself, he walked to the other side of the bed and stood with his back toward the door. Sorata stood with a sigh.

"Your turn to watch, I guess," he said, changing the subject, and Kamui asked his question without turning around.

"Do they all think that?" he said. "All of them - about me?"

"About you and... Subaru?" Sorata asked, hazarding a guess. 

Kamui nodded.

Sorata shrugged. "I dunno. It's not a topic of conversation that I've been involved in, kid. I'm just going on what I've seen."

Kamui nodded slowly and accepted. "Good enough. And don't call me kid."

Sorata donned his hat with a smile, shifting from foot to foot as if preparing himself for physical exertion. "Sure thing, Kamui. Seeya." Kamui nodded again, not trusting himself to look, and Sorata left without another word. 

He really should have asked about Arashi; Kamui knew that, on some level, but he just didn't feel like basking in someone else's pain. No sympathy; yes, there was yet another way that Subaru was a better man than he was. Why Subaru hadn't been chosen to be the savior of the world was anybody's guess - Kamui felt he couldn't even back up his decisions once he'd made them. Some savior.

Feeling inordinately heavy, Kamui sat down and waited. 

Aoki did not move; no one interrupted, and Kamui began to see why Sorata had drifted to sleep. Nurses came and went; Aoki never so much as changed the direction of his gaze, although he did blink on a regular basis. The sun crossed the sky and began to peer more directly into the western window of the room, but nothing else changed. Kamui, having considerably more on his mind than Sorata, had no trouble staying awake; but that was not enough to stop the dreamscape.

With the suddenness of a tidal wave darkness hit him, heavy, crushing, and feeling as though he could not breathe, Kamui passed out.

* * *

"Who are you?"

Darkness; where was this voice coming from? Whose voice was it? Kamui felt he should know, but for some reason, he could not place it. Afraid - or perhaps just leery - he remained silent.

"Who are you?" The question rang in the darkness again, echoing slightly against unseen walls, and Kamui shuddered and gripped his head; it felt like every decibel was strung through his heart with cold wire.

Before him, darkness suddenly swirled into a vortex of color from nothing, shaping in wavery figures to form people - people Kamui knew, and people he didn't.

He saw Subaru; standing before an individual of debatable gender, who was laid in a hospital bed and whose hair covered his (her?) pillow. He saw them speaking; he saw... some sort of odd power pass between them, an understanding, a mutual pain - and then the images swirled into nothing again, leaving emptiness behind.

Kamui stared, desperate for a postscript. "But... what was that? WHERE was that? WHAT'S GOING ON?"

"Who are you?" the darkness answered placidly, and Kamui rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You know who I am," he accused softly, "or we wouldn't be having this discussion. Well, since you know who I am, and I know who I am, I'm going to make this simple for you: let me out of here or I will blow whatever maraboshi, illusion, or dreamscape it is you've made here to hell. You got that?"

"You do not know who you are," corrected the voice, and Kamui paused. 

"I don't have to deal with this," he said, quietly and carefully controlled; and then suddenly, there was a man.

An older man - at least, from Kamui's own perspective - muscle-bound, wearing a Japanese Self Defense Force jacket and and sickly pale-green skin pallor.

Kamui stared.

The man said, "I am Shiyu Kusanagi. You are Kamui," and then just stared blankly ahead.

Kamui took a step back; no dreamscape he'd experienced had offered something like this before. "What? Are you real?"

Kusanagi continued to stare at nothing, and his coloring grew worse. "It's... wrong," he wrenched. "It's... something is wrong."

"Yeah, I can see that," said Kamui, who took another step back; an unpleasant, distinctly dead smell had begun wafting toward him.

"You've damned him," Kusanagi said, almost dreamily, and for the first time focused his eyes on his audience. Kamui swallowed; one of Kusanagi's eyes was missing."You've damned him and changed it all. The Final Battle is - "

And just as suddenly as he'd appeared, Kusanagi was gone. There was no fanfare, no flash of light; he simply wasn't there anymore, as if someone had turned the projector off. Once again, Kamui was left with another unfinished sentence.

Whispers warmed the air around him, caressing his ears and shivering in his soul, asking over and over again- "Who are you? Who are you?"

Kamui took a third step back, then a fourth; he could see nothing, feel nothing but the ground beneath his feet, and the whispers - overlapping one another now - began to grow louder.

"Stop it," he said, lifting both hands to his head. "Stop it. STOP IT!" Power crackled out from him in a blaze, a reaction to his panic rather than a planned response, slivering the air into pieces as the entire world around him suddenly shattered. 

* * *

Kamui stood, flinging his chair back and screaming. Both hands on the side of his head as though he were trying to keep his skull from bursting, he wailing, loudly, stopping only when a nurse came running into the room carrying a fire extinguisher. She was followed by two doctors and a security officer, and although Kamui stopped crying out the moment they touched him, he said nothing to indicate what was going on and turned violent when they tried to make him leave the room. In the end, they decided to sedate him.

While this went on, Aoki Seiichirou continued to stare at nothing, react to nothing, hear nothing. When Kamui finally submitted to being put in the bed beside him, Aoki simply breathed and blinked and did no more. Drugged nearly mindless, Kamui did the same thing.

For a long time, there was silence.


	5. Consummatum Perspective 2

Perspective.2 

___I have killed a child, and now nothing can save me._

_I stand before the tree - kneel, crawl, plead - but there is no relief. There can be none for what I've done._

_...not that I was looking for salvation._

_"You didn't kill her."_

_No... no, I didn't. _

_I do not answer Him as I kneel. There would be no point._

_"Why?"_

_And if I didn't know Him, I would almost think He really cared to know. But I do know Him; and He knows me._

_"I couldn't."_

_That doesn't seem to satisfy Him, and He says nothing at first. _

_"I just... couldn't do it," I add, and there's a tremor in my voice now, which I can't help._

_"You know what this means."_

_What this means? Do I know what this means? Is He mad?_

_"Of course."_

_"You have no objections?"_

_I look at Him for that one; He's mocking me, finding such amusement in my pain, and I know it. It must show on my face, because He smiles, fond, like He would be of a dog, and pats my head. "So cute, Subaru-kun"_

_ He says_

_ and oh the pain_

_pain_

_I've sacrificed one for another - how could I_

_...how could I do this to them?_

_"Please don't fail me again, Sukurazukamori," He says. "I would be terribly disappointed if we had to call off our game before it's even properly begun."_

_And something, someone, wrests a reaction from my throat. "How can you do this?" I cry, and don't know where that sound comes from. "How can you MAKE me do this? You of all people know I cannot - "_

_Silence. My voice trails away, sinking into nothing as we look at one another. I cannot answer Him. He has no reason to answer me. I can only hope that this outburst does not cause more damage than I already have by refu-_

_He takes two steps forward and cups my face with His hand._

_freeze_

_frozen_

_do _

_not_

_move_

_"Now, Subaru-kun," He says, His voice still mockingly kind but His eyes - _

_Assessing_

_Assuming_

_Possessing_

_"I have never hurt you before - have I? Not since you became what I - wanted you to be." And His thumb, softer than the death of the world's thumb should be, rubs against my cheekbone._

_I almost hate YOU_

_I almost say that_

_He smiles_

_apparently, I don't need to._

_He finally walks away. __"Goodnight, Sakurazukamori. Prepare for tomorrow. You have one day before the next round - and don't forget that small matter tonight that I want you to take care of."_

_One day? Oh, my gods; at this rate we'll be through the seals of heaven in a week. What can I do? It's only a temporary stopgap as it is, and once He's had his fill of it - _

_"Please," I say, and He looks at me. "Please, can I just... the woman..."_

_He studies my face; I have no reason to explain to a man who can read hearts, and then_

_miracle_

"Would you like that as a gift, Subaru-kun? A small gift - something else you'd owe me..."

I just look at him

nothing to say

He is silent; and then, he agrees.

miracle

some do still exist

"You may. Subaru-kun." And then He turns and walks away, as if He doesn't care or isn't aware of the relief that floods my mind, but I know it and He knows it and

it's okay

I can do this now.

_Very well, Kamui. I think of all I am to do; the things he wants me to take. One dragon a day... _

_If we stay with seals of heaven, that's one week._

_...one week_

_Kamui - _

_You have one week to find yourself._

Chapter.2.Postscript 

Kamui's body healed more quickly than it should, and naturally, this meant that it processed chemicals more quickly, as well. Fully three hours before anyone expected him to stir, he did; and when he woke, he and Aoki were not alone in the room.

A woman he'd never seen before stood beside Seiichirou's bed.

She was medium-tall, not really fashion-model thin; had a very motherly look, and her dark red hair was all over the place. She leaned over Aoki with a familiarity that only comes with family or very, very close friends, touching his body and face, here and there almost as if hoping to find a magical spot that would somehow bring him back. The tears on her cheeks reflected dully in the light from the street lamps outside the window.

Kamui didn't want to move. This was an intimate moment; unwatched, meant just for the two of them, even if Aoki didn't seem aware, and he felt like a voyeur for even being in the room. Trying to find something else to look at, he turned his head; then he saw the man. 

This was not the man from his dream. A slender man, too slender; standing in the shadows of the far corner and watching closely as if he'd been responsible for all that lay before him. Kamui knew. Even though the man's features were hidden in the dark, even though there was no reason why he should know - still, he knew.

"Subaru..." Kamui said unthinkingly, and the woman at Aoki's bed started.

"You're awake!" she said, one hand going to her chest, but before she'd even finished speaking, the thin man in the shadows ran.

"No... wait! Subaru!" Kamui leaped out of the bed and tried to follow, but the sedatives were still at work in his system; cursing, he twisted, his knee unexpectedly refusing to work, and bereft of his normal grace, smacked hard onto the cold tile floor.

"Oh!" cried the woman who was undoubtedly Aoki's wife, and hurried over to help him; but Kamui lay where he was, responding neither to her voice nor her hands. Subaru was gone, and Kamui felt that as sharply as he'd sensed Subaru's identity. 

It seemed sudden abandonment only hurt worse the second time.

"Ooh... let me help you, here, I'll call the nurse!" The woman was pressing the call button. Having some compassion on her - since she was undoubtedly Aoki's wife - Kamui numbly allowed her to help him up and into the bed.

"Oh, are you all right? You fell so quickly!"

"No, it's okay." Kamui's voice sounded hollow to his own ears.

"Just lie back, you aren't feeling well," she said, tucking him in as if he were a small child.

"Really, I'm okay." 

She wasn't listening. "I'm sure you'll see some discoloration later... you poor thing... you poor..." And folding her hands in front of her, the woman burst into tears.

Kamui knew why she was crying; but whatever else went with being "kamui," raising dead children to life was not one of his abilities. Bereft of options, he put one arm around her shoulders and held her until the nurses arrived. There were several of them; apparently, they'd had enough experience with this room that by now they knew to come in flocks.

The questioning started; Kamui had no part of it. He lay on the bed, quiet as Aoki, and tried to think.

What was Subaru doing here? Had he rescued her from someplace? But how? And why? And why had he stayed to watch? 

More importantly - why had he run away?

"The man who killed her... he's the one who brought me here. I think he was looking for atonement."

Words like that always seemed to cut through contemplative thought. "Wh... what?" Kamui asked, but no one was listening to him.

"He was the Sumeragi clan head," she whispered, crying, and Kamui didn't believe it.

Neither did anyone else. "Sumeragi-san?" the nurses were repeating in disbelief, clearly familiar with him enough to know this was nonsense. 

"It wasn't him," Kamui insisted, not caring that he was ignored, and stated again: "It was not him."

"It was him. He's the one who killed my daughter," Mrs. Aoki said, and began to cry again. "He... he just... right through her heart, like this, and..."

Kamui stiffened; the movement she made was eerily similar to that of Seishirou's - the Sakurazukamori - which office Subaru now filled. His stomach lurched a little; rubbing his diaphragm, Kamui repressed his nausea and simply, logically, thought it out.

Subaru Sumeragi - child-killer? Nonsense. Subaru was known for HELPING people, even the folks at the hospital knew that, there was no way Subaru could have - WOULD have - no. It was absurd to even think it. Subaru Sumeragi, killing a little girl? Never. It hadn't happened. The woman was dreaming, clearly just projecting projected the face of her savior over that of the killer's - since obviously, Subaru had saved her, brought her back to be with her husband - 

But then... why had he run?

And then the words from Kamui's dreamscape came crushing back into his memory, blocking out all outside sound, wiping all thoughts from his mind.

You've damned him

Damned...

Covering his mouth, Kamui scrambled out of the bed and ran for the bathroom.


	6. Consummatum Chapter Three

**Three: Irony**

_"Waiting, are they? Waiting, are they? Well... let 'em wait!"   
  
- Ethan Allen, U.S. Patriot during the American Revolution, being told that angels were waiting for him. (1738-1789), last words_

* * *

Karen watched as they closed the curtains. It was hard to let them do that, so unknowing as they took her view away from her, but Karen was a mature enough woman to know it was only right. He was their patient; his wife was with him. Closing the curtains only afforded them some of the privacy they deserved, and she was not about to complain - even though this action completely closed off her view. She was fine with it; she was okay. 

But she dearly wished that they hadn't closed the curtains. 

Sighing in a tired sort of release, Karen stretched her legs and rose slowly from her seat on the edge of the apartment building. Her own vigil over Seiichirou had been unending last night, and nearly unending the night before; it would be unending still if she hadn't had to go back to work.

The irony was simply too much, wasn't it? The world was ending; but she still had to be a soapland girl. Pulling her coat securely around her lingerie-clad body, she leapt down the fire escape, her toes touching the rusted metal of each railing just enough to keep her from plummeting completely. When she landed, she hardly made a sound. It was nice being able to do things like that - very fun. There certainly wasn't any reason at this stage in life not to have a little fun.

No reason at all. 

Karen closed her eyes. Not thinking about Seiichirou at all, she opened them again and marched down the alley and onto the sidewalk, pleased that her "lunch break" had ended on time for once, and that she could hold her head up high even in such dire circumstances. 

A woman had to have _something_ to be proud of, after all.

Nodding to the receptionist, she shed her coat in the employee's lobby and started back to her room.

"Kasumi-san," the receptionist called, and Karen came back to her.

"Yes, Iku?"

The woman nodded toward a closed door to her right - the opposite direction of the main room. "Special customer for you."

"Now?" Karen asked before she could stop herself; she'd returned from her break at least ten minutes early, and had been hoping she'd have some time to unwind.

"Now," Iku confirmed, nodding again. "In the tub."

Karen was a professional; she didn't make a face. "Ah. Showered, I assume?"

"Of course," Iku replied, since access to the sunken tub room was as regulated as it was pricey. 

Karen sighed. "Very well. Thanks for the heads up." Abandoning her plans, she turned toward the room Iku had indicated and went inside. 

* * *

A man was waiting there. Immersed to his chest in the twelve-foot long sunken tub, his head was back, relaxed, and she could not see his face. Folded towels lay around the tub; most of the lighting was from candles. More a small pool than a bath, both the tub and surrounding tiles lent a sense of subtle class to the intimate atmosphere. 

Karen smiled. "Good afternoon," she bid the man, her work-face already on. "It's such a hot day outside, don't you think? So very sticky." Casually, she removed what remained of her lingerie, then moved lightly down the steps into the tub and slid through the water, sending ripples toward him.

The man lifted his head looked at her and watched with polite interest as Karen startled badly, gasped, stopped approaching, and covered her mouth as if she thought she were going to start screaming.

Utterly still, they regarded one another - he sitting, she kneeling. Patiently, he waited for her to say something; and eventually, she did.

"K... Kamui," she said in a voice just a little too high and a little too tense, and for a moment, fury passed over her features. She looked as though she were seriously thinking of attacking him. "You... how _dare_ you come here!"

"One hundred thousand, five hundred yen," he replied obscurely, and Karen stared at him.

"Wh... what?"

Fuuma's tone never changed; he sounded almost compassionate. "One hundred thousand, five hundred yen," he repeated. "Or so they tell me you're worth." And then he waited.

She stared. "You don't actually _believe_ that I'm going to touch you!"

He didn't even bother to shrug. "It's what you're paid to do."

"You... " She stopped herself. Nothing would have pleased her more than attacking him, hurting him, trying - even though it was impossible - to kill him for what he'd done. It seemed she could still feel Nataku's slender body going limp in her arms, and she shuddered hard as she struggled with self control.

The best case scenario would be if he simply left, but it was obvious he wasn't going to leave. Attack him, and he'd probably fight back; why wouldn't he? Which meant - if she initiated a fight, people would die. Not just her - anyone in this building and on this block was at risk.

"Damn you," she said quietly, under her breath, and Fuuma smiled sweetly.

"Wash me. It is a sticky day outside," he said, and with that, put his head back once more and closed his eyes.

Karen did not move. 

"I'm waiting," he finally said without looking up, and there was just a hint of warning in his tone. 

"Damn you," she said again, and snatching up one of the towels folded by the tub, began scrubbing his torso with enough gusto to turn his skin red. He let her do that for a moment; and then, he responded. 

She never saw him move; when he grabbed her wrist, it was his speed more than the action itself which gave her the first stab of real fear. 

"More like this," he instructed, showing her exactly what he wanted with absolutely nothing in his eyes; then, releasing her wrist, he lay his head back again and waited. Clenching her teeth, Karen silently complied. 

Minutes passed; eventually, Karen found the strength to speak again.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted a bath," Fuuma replied, and Karen clenched her teeth again.

"Tell me the truth."

He lifted his head and looked at her. "Are you sure you want it?"

A second stab of fear. "Yes."

Fuuma showed neither respect nor disgust for her decision or her tone; instead he simply stood, and without modesty sloshed to the side of the tub. "Then you're looking the wrong way."

Karen was suddenly sure . "What?"

Fuuma stopped. Looking pointedly like Michelangelo's David to the far side of the tub, he lifted one hand and descried a slightly darker shadow under the water in the deep shadows of the unlit side of the room. "There."

He continued climbing out. Suddenly knowing - _knowing_, somehow, the nature of the thing she would find, if not whom, Karen ignored him and trembled through the water toward the other end.

There was a body in the deep end of the tub. 

Karen screamed.

* * *

The police, fortunately, were very familiar with the Flower soapland. This was hardly the first unexpected "departure" from within these sullied walls, and it wouldn't be the last; the department had made an art of arranging it so that deaths didn't "happen" inside the building at all. More than one politician, well-known schoolteacher, actor and chef had died from mysterious heart failure in restaurants nearby - at least, on the official reports - and because of this small courtesy, the Flower kept its reputation, and so did the victim.

This death, however, posed a problem. It was no accident; clearly a mutilation and homicide, this incident brought together an entirely different branch of law enforcement. 

"Kusanagi, Shiyuu," said detective Yamata, reading from a card he'd crumpled slightly in his pocket. "JSDN. Although what the hell he's doing in here with his eye torn out is another question entirely."

Karen sat on a small chair near the counter; her lingerie donned once more, she wore someone else's coat over her body, and was currently feeling annoyed because her own coat had tissues in the pockets and this one didn't. Sniffling, she looked around for help.

Yamata handed her a handkerchief."So, last time," he said, looking away while she delicately wiped her nose; as if a red-head in black lace wasn't distracting enough. "You just... found him there."

"Yes. After my last customer left," she said firmly, handing the handkerchief back to him and looking steadily at his face.

He let her keep it, studying her instead . Eye contact was a good thing; TOO strong an eye contact, however, was not, because it meant she was hiding something. 

The problem was, Yamata couldn't figure out just what. "And you don't know who the guy was."

"I don't know who my customers are as a general rule, detective," she replied in slightly frosty tone, as though he'd insulted her professionally.

Yamata sighed. "Any luck getting those records?" he asked his partner. That man, on the phone behind the receptionist's desk, looked at Yamata and shook his head no. Apparently, soapland records were considered highly private documents, and a court order was needed to access them.

"Hell," Yamata muttered running his hand through his hair; the red-head shifted in her seat.

"I don't mean to be rude, detective," she said carefully, "but this day has been absolutely horrible. May I please go home?"

He looked at her. Her record was squeaky clean - if one discounted working in a soapland - and he had no legal reason to hold her. "Yeah. You can go. Just don't try to visit any out-of-town relatives, okay?"

She gave him a dry look as though he were insulting her again, then nodded. "I won't go anywhere. In fact, Iku - ?"

Iku, who was on the other side of the room in a huddle with the other employees, looked up. "Yes?"

"I think I'm taking some vacation time."

"Oh honey, you've earned it!" Iku said, making a mental note to mark Karen off duty for a while. "Go home. Just... go home."

Karen smiled her thanks; then with a quick nod to Yamata - and still wearing whomever's coat it was she'd borrowed - she left.

Karen had reasons beside the obvious for taking a vacation now. She rarely took vacations; Karen had pride in herself and in her work, and saw no reason to avoid it if she had the health to do it. This, however, was different; all too well, she knew that if Fuuma for some reason decided to come back, he'd probably kill her, too.

As well as anyone else in the area. 

She had no doubt of this. After she'd screamed, after there were shouts from outside and sounds of people running, he'd smiled at her, and she'd known. The next time they met, she would die at his hands. 

Karen never once wondered how it was that Fuuma had dressed and left, taking his time, and yet no one had so much as noticed him. Even when people came streaming into the room, responding to her sounds of panic, no one seemed to see him; casually, calmly, he pushed his way between them all and walked out.

Karen had not known what to say.

Well; it hardly mattered now. She was not going back to work, and she was not allowed to leave town - although she wouldn't have, even if it still had been an option. Her part in the end of the world was too important.

Silently, unfaltering, she returned to her perch on the apartment building to watch Seiichirou's hospital room until the sun sank low in the sky. 


	7. Consummatum Perspective Three

**Perspective.3******

_"No one said irony had to be coordinated."   
  
- Miranda Stoddard_

* * *

_"A taste for irony has kept more hearts from breaking than a sense of humor, for it takes irony to appreciate the joke which is on oneself."_

_Does he expect a response? Do I even care?_

_"Who do you think said that, Sakurazukamori?"_

_I don't know who said that. I'm sure I don't care; this is just his way of telling me who's next to die, that's all. _

_...why won't you leave me alone?_

_"I don't know." Even to me, my voice sounds petulant. _

_"Indulging in self-pity again, Sakurazukamori?"_

_"Please don't call me that."_

_"I'll call you whatever I like."_

_Silence again, while I flinch a little and then rearrange myself. It isn't very comfortable, where he put me. _

_"So who said it?"_

_"How am I supposed to know?"_

_"Temper, Sakurazukamori."_

_Temper. Maybe he's trying to drive me to suicide. I don't know. _

_I won't suicide. He has to know that. The only thing I have LEFT is what comes after I finally die, and if I suicide, I lose even that - _

_I can't lose them again. I can't. I just can't._

_"So who said it?" he asks again, and now he shifts so it's even less comfortable than before._

_"An American," I guess wildly._

_"Why?"_

_"Because everyone else you've quoted to me today has been American," I snap a little, amazed at my own tone, and _

_He turns and smiles so compassionately - _

_right_

_in __my_

_face._

_"Are you feeling unappreciated, Sakurazukamori?" he says, and his breath tickles my cheek_

_No, I think, but I do seem to be going insane. "I said stop CALLING me that!"_

_"And I said I'll call you whatever I like." Finger on my lips. Hushing. "You know you cannot lead."_

_I close my eyes and rest my head back. Against the tree. Against his hold over me. "Yeah." What else am I supposed to say? He's already reminded me twice today that if I had just been a little bolder and spoken up, then Seishirou might not - _

_Uneven inhale; even exhale. Don't think about it. That way lies madness. _

_He's not even looking in my direction anymore. His gaze is set off in the distance somewhere, on some victim for all I know, because this conversation is just SO very important to him._

_I wonder, not for the first time, why he doesn't just let me go._

_He's reading my mind again._

_"Because... oh, there she is."_

_I look up, terrified because 'she' is in more danger than she's ever been in her life, and follow his pointing finger to the person he means._

_...oh, gods, no._

_"...no."_

_"No, what?" he says and looks at me, so compassionately, so innocent, so close._

_"I... " don't want to give him ideas "Nothing. Never mind."_

_"I want you to kill her today," he says, casual as a grocery list, and goes back to staring off into the distance like he doesn't care._

_Another child? ANOTHER? "Fuuma...."_

_That gets a response. Suddenly his hand slams into the tree just beside me, barely missing my head, and he's breathing in my face like I'm going to die even though his expression seems to say he's SO sorry for me - _

_I jump._

_"I am Kamui." He breathes it - lives it._

_Bastard...._

_Suddenly he smiles. So pitying. He probably heard that thought. "While you're going, deliver this," he says, and _

_Takes my hand, puts something in it_

_Something...._

_....oh, my GODS_

_"Ugh!" I say, and drop it, because I have held one of those before, I know what it feels like - _

_He catches it. Easy, fluent motion. And puts it back in my hand._

_Oh gods, I think I'm going to be sick._

_"It belongs to someone special," he informs me, and I have a crazy thought that I need to checking it to see if the color is gold._

_Stupid. Of course it isn't gold. _

_"You need to give it to her before she dies," he says, "so that she will know she is going to a happier place."_

_I rub my face with the hand not occupied and wonder if he's trying to break me._

_"Go, Sakurazukamori," he says so softly, finally pulling away; and when I don't move, he looks at me fully, with empty promises in his eyes. "Unless you'd rather I went in your place."_

_No. No, no. Not after... _

_...after he demonstrated... what he would..._

_Something comes out of my throat like a sob, but it doesn't matter; I'm moving, moving toward his chosen target, to warn her, for certain, and possibly to kill her as well, I don't know -_

_I don't care._

_...I wish that were the truth._

* * *

_She's so innocent, standing there._

_Was walking - stopped, because her companion stopped, because her companion seems to see me and_

_he doesn't like what he sees_

_"Hi," I say quietly, though it's stupid, though she'll surely be smart enough to see me and run - _

_"Subaru!" and suddenly her arms are around me_

_around my waist_

_face pressed over my heart _

_so... completely innocent_

_"I'm sorry," I say, and my voice is uneven, and I push her away although it's so hard, and I know I'm already crying_

_and she sees_

_and it takes a moment._

_...and she finally knows._

_"Oh," she says, so quietly, so sadly._

_We stare at one another._

_"He's making you," she suddenly says. "I'm so sorry."_

_And for some reason, I have to argue. "No, he isn't."_

_Suddenly I'm getting a look like I'm being a silly little boy and she's the mother_

_...or the sister_

_impossible_

_"Of course he is. Are you all right?"_

_Am _**I **_all right? HOW - "How can you... ASK me that!? Don't you understand? You're going to DIE!"_

_She finally seems to get it. Maybe she gets it. Maybe.... I'll feel so horrible if I took the sparkle from her eyes - _

_soft "I know. I mean... I didn't know before TODAY, you understand, but I know NOW - and of course I knew I was going to die SOMEday - "_

_She's crying_

_oh no, no, no please no, don't do that_

_wiping her eyes "Everyone dies someday, and I was really lucky if you think about it, you know? Because how many people can say that they HAD a purpose in life and actually came really close to fulfilling it, although maybe I already DID fill it because I... oh." She blinks at me through her tears. "Wow, you look worse than I do."_

_I'm laughing - or maybe it's him. Or maybe it's her. Everything's going grey. "I... I..."_

_Her companion growls. A good friend; good companion. Please... please don't make me do this...._

_"I'm sorry."_

_She's looking at me, so much like that Other, so much like my sister, so much like - _

_She's hugging me again. Oh, my gods..._

_soft "I forgive you."_

_I wonder when she learned that cookies and toys didn't fix everything._

_Stupid_

_She's known that all her life_.

_That harsh, choked sound - _

_a Braying sound_

_hoarse, inhuman_

_...that's coming from me._

_We sink to the ground together, in each other's arms, and I wonder for a moment who's crying harder and if we could somehow get Fu... Kamui to let me die first_

_or let us die together_

_or - _

**_It is time, Sakurazukamori_**

_...damn you_

_"Stay... stay with him." She's talking to her companion, not me_

_Giving him to me_

_To her MURDERER_

_...__damn me, too_.

**_It is time._**

_...I know._

_kissing her head_

_her face hidden_

_fists clenched in my shirt - _

_"I'm sorry...."_

_"I know. It's okay."_

_No, it ISN'T okay, and I forgot to give her the... the... _

_I won't. She can die without having to know._

* * *

_And I want to resist._

_I don't want to do it at ALL_

_But there is no_

_choice - _

_ - the colors_

_the colors are already leaving me_

_....so much peace inside this Cold_

_Goodbye, Yuzuriha._


	8. Consummatum Chapter Four

Four: Accidents Happen 

_**"Oops."   
  
- Linus Torvalds **_

* * *

_A scream. No; something too horrible to be a scream, echoing through the alleyways and streets, raw-throated, so terse it makes even those who hear it feel hoarse._

_Sorata pauses. "What in the world was that?" _

_Kamui, confused, uninvolved, pauses because Sorata did, and looks. "I don't know."_

_"Well, let's go see!" emotes the monk, and bounds off in that direction without hesitation, while Kamui_

_hesitates_

_then follows. Not as if he Knows some special thing, but as if he just..._

_doesn't want to be alone._

_And so together, they come on a scene of horror, on an image unforgettable of a man they know sprawled in another's blood, clenching that empty body to himself and trying to scream again._

_"...Subaru?" Kamui asks, and then everything goes insane._

* * *

Kamui sat by Subaru's bed. He had not left to eat; had not left to shower. He had visited the bathroom only a few times and always under duress, but had never taken more than a few minutes. Karen brought him food; Sorata brought him company. But between the three of them, they could not force Subaru to wake up.

Of course, Kamui partly blamed himself for this. When they'd found Subaru, he was covered in blood, clutching the limp body of Yuzuriha to his chest, weeping so hard that his breath came in haggard gasps, and when he'd seen them approaching, he'd tried to run.

Perhaps it was fortunate that Subaru's grief made him less agile than his norm; perhaps not. Either way, he was not fast enough to escape Kamui.

There'd been a brief struggle; a degrading exhibition of panic on the part of both participants, and then at the last moment, Kamui had lost control. When it became clear that Subaru meant to run away again and would let nothing stop him, Kamui had done the only thing that his pained loss brought to mind. He'd pulled back one fist and socked Subaru in the jaw.

All of that had been two days ago; Subaru had not woken up. And right now, Kamui would have given anything he had to take that hit back.

"Guess that's what happens when a Kamui hits a non-Kamui," Sorata softly attempted to joke, and rested one hand on Kamui's shoulder. In his other hand was a tray carrying two platee of udon and several skewers of meat.

Kamui ignored him completely.

"Hey. It won't do him any good if you fall over from being hungry," Sorata tried again, moving to kneel beside Kamui - since he'd learned that blocking Kamui's view of Subaru was a Very Bad Thing - and look into his eyes. 

Kamui resolutely stared forward, as if willing Subaru to move.

"Uh... Kamui, I don't think that's going to really help the situation - "

"Shut up. He can hear you," Kamui said with nary a blink, and fortunately, did not see the look Sorata shot him.

"Ooookay. Sure thing, Kamui," Sorata said, and put the tray down beside Kamui, on the desk. Snatching up one of the plates and three skewers, he nodded farewell and stalked back to the kitchen. 

Karen was there, wearing an apron longer than her skirt, and pensively doing the dishes. "Any change?" she asked. 

"Nah. In either one of 'em," Sorata muttered, and flopped into one of the kitchen chairs. Scowling, he began to nibble the udon. "Maybe we'll get lucky and Kamui will pass out so we can hook him up to an IV."

"Maybe." She dried a plate.

"Or maybe Fuuma will decide now's the time for the Final Battle and it'll all be over before we can say 'boo.'"

"Maybe."

Sorata grinned. "Or maybe Subaru's gonna wake up, realize Kamui's devoted like a dog, and confess his eternal love."

Karen turned and looked at him. "And maybe I'm actually a blonde."

Sorata blinked for a moment, then laughed; he laughed longer than he should, putting his udon in severe risk of being dropped on the floor, but it was clear he needed the stress relief. Weakly, Karen smiled; then she turned back to her dishes.

She asked quietly: "So has there been any word from Arashi?"

Sorata's laugh cut off as sharply as if he'd been choked. "...why do you want to know?" he demanded after a moment, defensive; and Karen was spared from answering because there was a cry from the bedroom. Both froze; then as one, they raced for the hall.

* * *

Subaru was awake, and he was still trying to get away. Kamui's tears landed on both of them as they struggled.

"No, no, you don't underSTAND - "

"I understand! I understand better than you do! If you go again, if you leave again, he'll keep doing shit to you! You're not going anywhere!"

"No, NO, Kamui, you don't understand, I HAVE to be not here!"

"**_QUIET_**!!"

Everyone in the room went still. There is something about a roused woman, wrote Dickens, especially if she add to all her other strong passions the fierce impulses of recklessness and despair. Few men like to provoke such a thing; and in this case, the woman in question was not only used to dealing with men in all conditions, but she could control fire, and had had a very bad week. 

Knowing she'd re-established enough control to ensure at least a few moments of sanity, Karen crossed to the bed quickly and gave Subaru a tight, full-hearted hug. Surprised and unsure, Subaru stiffened, then tentatively hugged her as well.

Karen pulled back enough to eye him critically. "I don't know whether to slap you or hug you again."

"Kasumi-san," Subaru tried, desperate that someone should see reason. "You have to let me go."

"We have to do no such thing."

"We're not. We're NOT!" Kamui started, and Karen shot him a look; after a moment, he quieted.

"No, you don't understand," pleaded Subaru for what felt to him like the thousandth time. "If I stay here, you're going to die. You're all going to die."

"We're all going to die anyway, Subaru."

"No! Not like this!"

"Subaru!" Karen's voice was sharp; Subaru flinched, and Karen's tone gentled. "Don't you think you owe us an explanation?"

"He doesn't owe us. It's all over. He's not leaving," Kamui interrupted, and Karen gave him another Look.

"Kamui, if you cannot control yourself, I'm going to ask you to leave."

It was Kamui's turn to flinch. Looking betrayed, he fell silent. 

"Now. Subaru."

"I can just make a maraboshi and get out of here," Subaru threatened vaguely, and Karen sighed. 

"Yes, you probably could," she responded. "But then what? You would keep running, keep perhaps being in denial; and eventually, Fuuma - "

"Kamui," corrected Subaru automatically, and to Karen's credit, her voice did not waver.

" - would just hunt us down anyway. It isn't going to make the Final Day come any sooner; whatever he does in the meantime can be changed." She checked Subaru's eyes. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say, honey?"

Subaru looked down; he expression was ragged. "He's going to make me kill you all," he said weakly, and covered his face with his hands.

Karen murmured something comforting and, pulling Subaru into her arms, began to rock him. Sorata watched intently, more amazed than embarassed; but Kamui responded by standing up and leaving the room.

"Kamui," Karen said softly, but did not go after him.

* * *

There was no plan involved. Kamui walked out the front door, and began to run.

He needed to run. Needed to pretend the mess he'd just left didn't actually exist, needed to get away long enough to think. He ran for what seemed like miles; flew for part of it, maybe, crossing over buildings that stood in his way rather than going around, and finally ended his race from pain when he could feel the _presence_ of his one and own Twin Star.

Kamui's breath was uneven. "Why?" he asked the daylight, knowing Fuuma could hear him and not caring who else did. "WHY? Why are you doing this? Does bringing change mean you're supposed to BREAK people like this? Fuuma... WHY!?"

Only the breeze replied at first; and then a familiar, hated, loved touch slid around Kamui's waist and pulled him against his opposite's chest.

"Because you looked away," was Fuuma's simple reply. More silence; Kamui fought his tears more strongly than he'd ever fought the man who used to be his friend.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kamui finally said, throat thick with emotion; and then, he growled. "But you stop. You better stop hurting him. You leave him alone..." Kamui turned in Fuuma's arms, and there was anger in his eyes. "Or I swear to you, the Final Day won't even matter to me anymore. You leave him alone or I'm not playing by your rules anymore. I'll kill you. Do you hear me, Fuuma? I'll kill you." His voice choked and he had to stop.

Almost compassionate, Fuuma ran his thumb over Kamui's cheekbone, wiping away one tear, and if there was a hint of possessiveness in his eyes, Kamui did not comment. "You're so pretty when you talk about death, Kamui," he said.

Kamui jerked out of his grasp, hitching. "Get away from me. Just... get the fuck away from me."

Fuuma smiled. He left. And it was only after he'd gone that Kamui realized he had not promised to stay away from Subaru at all.

Suddenly filled with deep, rebellious fear, Kamui raced toward home.

---------

Four . 2: Beta 

--------

Kanoe had never asked for much in life. 

The ability to dreamgaze she could begrudge because those who had it seemed to carry physical burdens in proportion to their power. But there were other things; things that should have, would have been perfectly attainable if just a little more Fate had looked her way. Petulant, she sat on the throne that Yuuto built and studied her hands. 

It wasn't as if there were anything else to do.

All the dragons of heaven and earth had scattered. Seemingly more concerned with their petty, personal problems than the reason for which they'd been born, they had abandoned their causes and left her to wonder yet again why she had not been one of them herself. She would not have hesitated; she _felt_ the earth. It cried out for change - a change that only the /Kamui/ of earth could bring, which the dragons of earth were supposed to help.. but the rest of them had turned out to be useless.

Usless dragons, one and all. Human dragons; that could be the problem. All humans needed to die, she knew, in order to bring the change the earth cried for - although the fact that the /Kamui/ of earth had thus far only bothered to kill the dragons of his own team and not his opposing star's bothered her, more than just a little. Shivering once, Kanoe shifted delicately in her chair and thought of other things.

Kanoe considered her options. She could use her abilities of dream-spying to pinpoint the location of every dragon, heaven or earth - but what would be the point? Sure, Satsuki was still physically around with Yuuto not far behind, but that didn't mean they hadn't abandoned her just the same as everyone else. She was as alone as she'd been when her sister had been her only companion; and since Tokyo still stood strong and tall up above with only patches of destruction, it seemed fairly obvious that the situation was not slated to improve any time soon.

Was NO one responsible anymore?

She was hungry. With a flout only feasible for the long-legged, Kanoe left her throne and stalked toward the small kitchen, and was very surprised to find Yuuto waiting there.

"BEAST throw you out of the bedroom again?" Kanoe snarked as she walked past him to the fridge.

Yuuto, apparently doing "adorable" today instead of "sex fiend," beamed at her. "Why, I don't know what you're talking about, Kanoe! I've made crepes - do you want some?"

Kanoe sighed, hesitated, then swung the refrigerator door closed. "I might as well. We don't seem to have anything else to eat in this place, anyway."

Smoothly, Yuuto served her half a dozen, then smiled and settled back to watch. But Kanoe was not in a playful mood; she simply ate, with no showing off and nary a tongue or come-hither to be found. 

"Satsuki says something's wrong with our Kamui," Yuuto casually shared, and pushed away from the counter as if to leave. "Well, good night!"

Kanoe choked on crepe. "Mh!" She swallowed. "Hey! Don't you DARE walk away from me after saying that!"

Yuuto stopped and turned in the door, innocently curious. "I'm sorry. Should I have explained?"

Kanoe's look could have melted butter. 

"All right, all right," Yuuto said, hands up as if to fend off her anger. "It's nothing to get so upset about, Kanoe," he said, which might or might not have been a lie. "Satsuki-chan just pointed out that BEAST has been spitting out some figures that don't make sense, given the Kamui's proclivities. Things have changed, that's all."

"Changed?" Kanoe's tone was sharp. Abandoning her crepes, she stalked _at_ him quickly enough that his only response was an endearingly puzzled expression. To her surrpise more than his, she grabbed his lapels.

"Yip!" he said.

Kanoe was rapidly becoming convinced that this was the worst day she'd ever had in her life. "WHAT. Is wrong. With our Kamui?"

"Hey, I didn't say anything was wrong with him!" Yuuto hastily said, allowing himself to look slightly nervous with his hands still in the air. "I just said things are changing. And if you want the details on that, you need to ask Satsuki, not me." His voice softened and developed an extra skin of _smooth_. "Don't shoot the messenger, Kanoe."

Kanoe glowered, and Yuuto wondered, for a moment, if she was aware how ugly her mouth was when she twisted it into that kind of frown. "I'm going to talk to Satsuki," Kanoe announced, and releasing Yuuto with a tiny shove, marched out of the kitchen. 

Yuuto's cheer faded as he watched her go. Suddenly he looked old and very, very weary.

"Well. That's the end of her," he sighed, and went to put away the crepes. 

* * *

Satsuki was not there.

This was something of a surprise; Kanoe was sure that Satsuki had not left the building, and when Satsuki was in the building, she was plugged into the machine. 

But she wasn't here now. Frowning, Kanoe entered the bottom level room that housed BEAST's monstrosity and searched. 

"I've been waiting for you."

Startled, Kanoe spun around, recognizing the voice but too shocked to hide her intial reaction. Before her stood the man about whom she was inquiring; easily, she slipped back into her role of seductress and approached him.

"Kamui," she said, one hand over her heart as if relieved. And then, following her own self-made script, took his hand in hers and placed it on her ample chest. "Oh, Kamui; you startled me." 

Fuuma's expression never changed. This was normal; he had never shown any response to her approaches before, and perhaps this was why she never saw it coming. 

Before she knew what was happening, his hand was around her throat, and he began to squeeze.

"Nng... ock!" she managed, for all the good it did, and stared at him with horror in her eyes. Realizing that he was lifting her off the floor, she began to kick, trying frantically to get a foot hold or force him to release her. 

He did neither. "Change?" Fuuma said, softly, as if responding to some inner dialogue. "You want the world to change? It will... but not in the way you want."

Kanoe tried to scream; unable to even exhale, the sound did not even qualify as a squeak. She was beginning to turn very red.

"Because," he replied, as if she'd asked him why, "I don't want to anymore."

Her eyes bugged; he turned and slammed her against the wall, and they bugged a little more.

"That's right. I don't want to anymore. You can blame it on my opposing star. He is, after all - " Fuuma pressed harder, enough to make _something_ in Kanoe's body crack wetly - "the reason I live." 

His lips pulled back, and suddenly there was an expression growing on his face that should not, could not have been what it was; could not - because the dark Kamui existed for only one purpose. He wasn't supposed to want. He wasn't supposed to _hate_; but the look he wore was beyond, so far beyond any breed of loathing Kanoe had ever witnessed before that as her vision began to swim before her bulging eyesm she was grateful - because it meant she would no longer see his face. 

Fuuma pressed harder. 

Kanoe's body reacted. It tried to throw up - but there was nowhere for the vomit to go, and it clogged the remaining, strained space between her mouth and her gullet. Her lungs were burning, water poured ceaselessly from her eyes, and still his look did not change; and she was afraid. The hand she raised to try to scratch him, puncture an eye, something, he grabbed and smacked back against the concrete wall hard enough to break it and make it useless. 

Again, Kanoe tried to scream; again, she could not. Vomit and blood somehow began to leak from her mouth. Her vision was gone, but still the image of his rictus burned behind her eyelids, and she wished it would be over. Just completely, finally over. 

"As you wish," Fuuma said sweetly between bared teeth, and very neatly snapped her neck.

Kanoe twitched; then she fell to the floor like a rag doll. Freed from his hand, her throat held its crushed position for a few moments more then opened, spilling its contents in a wet, hissing exhale. Fuuma looked at her for just a moment more, his face once again calm. Then he turned and simply left her there.

Yuuto stood by the door, leaning on the frame; he straightened quickly as Fuuma approached.

"You and BEAST are to go to Kyoto," Fuuma said to him simply, and handed him a small slip of paper with an address.

Yuuto looked at it; his eyebrows shot up, either because he recognized the home or knew the opulence of its neighborhood. "Anything else?"

"Messy is good," Fuuma replied with the mock-cheerfulness he sometimes had when the mock-compassion was no longer appropriate; and without another word, he abandoned Yuuto to his orders and left the government building. 

Yuuto sighed. He looked at BEAST, the absurd machine he'd fought once for the privilege of touching BEAST's rider. "We'd better go," he said to it.

Like a hulking, video-game robot, the thing in the center of the room shifted, wires slithering menacingly across the floor.

"Don't get mad at ME," Yuuto replied, frowning a little as the wires came toward him. "It isn't my fault we can't wait for her to come back. You know the drill; our Kamui is our god." He said it only slightly bitterly, as if the impingement on his freedom bothered him more than the order to kill.

BEAST stopped advancing, but is wires continued to undulate in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah," Yuuto replied. "I love you, too." And he went to take a shower.


	9. Consummatum Perspective Four

Perspective.4 

Perspective . Fou r

_"First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do."  
  
__** - **_**_Epictetus_**

* * *

_The Sumeragi was beautiful, and Fuuma Monou watched him._

_It was a marvelous thing; the death of the Sakurazukamori had transformed the Sumeragi into an incredible thing of art, twisted with grief beyond morality, pushed to the point at which he should have broken - and yet, he still did not. _

_Oh, this was not to say Subaru was not depressed; he was. But it still was not enough._

_Kamui had grown to love Subaru, to love him beyond himself, beyond any other, beyond even his Opposing Star; and thus... Fuuma had grown to hate him._

_The Sumeragi was beautiful, and Fuuma Monou watched him. Only a little bit longer, and Fuuma would choose to act._

* * *

_"Don't be silly, of course you want some tea." Karen-san...._

_"Oh, well, I bet you've never heard of GROUCHO Marx! HA!" Sorata-kun...._

_"Subaru. Don't leave me." Kamui._

_A nightmare. No; this is something too horrible to be a nightmare, too horrible and long-lasting to be anything but reality, and I almost think it would have been better just to die._

_But I can't kill myself. I can't. Even though being alive and just being with them is enough to put them in danger, I cannot simply force myself to die. If I'm going to die, it can't be by my hand; or else..._

_Or else I'll never see anyone I love again._

_The thought crosses my mind that what Seishirou-san did to me might be considered suicide, but I think maybe it was too complicated and selfless an act for that. Because it was, wasn't it? Selfless; such a selfless thing to do, die and run away._

_My heart feels so raw. I wish I _could_ die._

_They're all being kind to me, you see. Kind, as though they could erase what I've done or magically make me feel better - or maybe they're just trying not to think too hard about it and trying to make ME think of something else. I don't know what they think they're really trying to do, or how Karen's even managing to talk to me now. She knows what I've done. I told her. _

_But they talk to me anyway, and there's nothing I can do to make them stop._

_Fuuma is watching now. I can feel him doing it, feel his eyes eying me through the very walls, and if that sounds paranoid, maybe it is. But the source of my paranoia can read my HEART - if that didn't make me paranoid, what in the world would?_

_The most horrible thing of all is this: he's eventually going to come for me. _

_ I've broken our deal._

_I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't mean to do it at all; it was just when Yuzuriha was lying dead in my arms and her body was so small and so warm but LOSING its warmth the only thing I could remember was my sister lying in Seishirou-san's arms so small and so warm and losing its warmth and - _

_STOP_

_...just stop. _

_That way lies madness, Sumeragi Subaru, and you know it well._

_"Drink some more tea, Subaru-kun," Karen-san says, and she's so nice to me that I can't keep refusing her. I can't make them cry, on top of everything else I've done; at least not in front of me. But Kamui cries. Kamui cries all the time, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it._

_My reason for making him live is gone. I don't want to save the world anymore; I can't even make a kekkai. He doesn't understand that I tried to USE him, I don't care about him, I don't care about anything at ALL - _

_I just wish so much that he wouldn't cry._

_I've found if I at least talk to him, he stops crying for a while. He eats up any attention I give, and I begin to wonder a little if I looked like that when I was watching Seishirou-san, when I was young._

_Adoring look. Imploring. Treasuring up any piece of attention he gave; and just like Seishirou-san, I've used him for my own ends._

_I don't deserve to see anyone again. But if I try to leave, or if I try to die - or even hide inside myself - then Kamui will cry. _

_Please, Kamui. Don't cry. _

_Not for me. You've cried so much already._

_I can feel Fuuma watching, and calling. __I don't know how much longer I can wait._

_Please, Kamui - _

_Don't cry._


End file.
